


Princess Unattainabelle

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Fantasy AU, M/M, Sibling Incest, Slow Build, Stancest - Freeform, princess!ford
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:59:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4515822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magic Dungeons and Dungeons and more Dungeons inspired adventure, featuring Stanford the genderfluid princess of Gravity Falls and two fantastical twins shamelessly checking each other out! Stay tuned for when this plot eventually dissolves into PWP bc I can't write consistently for shit!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chalky rock crumbling between his fingers, Stan lamented the choices that had led him to this uneven route up these white cliffs. He wasn’t quite as spritely as he used to be, and the extra bulk that came with being a half orc (thanks dad) was weighing his trip down even more. 

With a tentative grasp, he felt the level ground symbolising the top of the cliff and heaved himself up with an almighty grunt, collapsing on the ground and taking a moment to gather his breath. How in the hell he’d ever get himself down the cliff face again was another question that Stan would leave until he knew that he could successfully stand without blacking out. 

Finally he rose and began walking down the cobbled path to the massive oak doors at the front of the gothic keep. 

“Goddamn,” Stan muttered to himself, “really out did themselves making this look like an evil lair. Whelp, whatever fucked up mage bullshit is ahead of me, gotta get used to it.”

He raised the ornate, iron knocker in his hand and pounded on the wood a couple of times before there was a loud creaking and Stan was able to peek inside only to be greeted with a darkened room. It was seemingly void of all light, eyes taking a long while to adjust after the blinding reflection of light from the snow he’d encountered half way up. 

“Hello?” he stepped inside, “Is there a princess here? I’m here on royal business…”

Nothing. 

“And I’m talking to myself.” He sighed, slamming the door behind him. Now the only light in the plush; yet noticeably dusty grand hall was cast from behind the long, flowing drapes covering the equally towering windows. 

Making sure to tread lightly Stan made his way up to the elegant gilded staircase at the end of the hall. To be truthful, the silence was making him feel slightly uneasy, it wouldn’t be the first trap he’d blindly stumbled into and he supposed now he was doing legitimate work for royalty the stakes might be a bit higher. Not to imply the morally ambiguous adventures he usually undertook were all that bad, a little bit of tavern brawling was good for the constitution, but the promise of wealth offered by the Emperor was staggering.

And there was the Princess. With any luck the half-blood might get in on a ‘royal favour’.

Leaning a large calloused hand on the wall he stuck his head into the inky darkness of the room at the top of the stairs.

“Damn this place is dark, starting to wonder if this Princess Unattainabelle is really a Princess Nosferat- HOLY MOSES.” 

A figure erupted out of the darkness, and the shocked, hulking rogue flailed his limbs wildly then tumbled down the stairs. Even though the fall wasn’t too long, Stan was still dazed since he’d just hit his head with a resounding thunk against the carpet. 

He moaned lowly from the dull pain, wincing as the room was plunged into clinical, fluorescent light after a flurry of movement from whatever had come bursting out of that room. 

Whilst his vision came back into focus (he’d been out of the game for too long, he should’ve easily taken out that figure) there came a heavy boot on his chest. 

Taking a sweeping glance at the figure Stan mentally noted prominent features. The long, starched lab coat that clung to a thin frame; the leather hiking boots buried under a deep jade dress and the large pale nose protruding from the glint of safety goggles and the tousle of chestnut hair. Oh, and the cross bow pointed straight at his throat. 

“Princess Unattainabelle… I presume.” Stan finally said, slowly raising his hands in surrender. 

Slowly, the crossbow was lowered and the shoulders rounded, with the Princess bringing a gloved hand to the goggles, meeting the rogue’s widening eyes with their own, puzzled, inquiring gaze. 

“Stanley?” 

“STANFORD?!” spluttered Stan, “YOU’RE the Princess I was sent here to get?!” 

Stanford blinked in surprise and grasped his brother’s hand with his own, pulling him up and looking him up and down. 

“You were sent here to collect me?” 

“Never mind that, how in the world did you manage to land the title of Princess? Last time I checked mom and dad where still inn-keepers on that shitty little pier.” 

"They moved closer to the city actually.” 

“Well great for them, but I’m still left wondering how you became a fucking Princess, with a creepy-ass castle and all. What, you marry some very affluent gnomes or something?”

Stanford sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation, before slipping on some spectacles and gesturing upstairs. 

“It’s probably best if we talk while eating. You look tired and we obviously need to discuss some things.” 

Stan was about to protest his twin’s hospitality, but instead followed him up the stairs and into the darkened room. As Ford switched on the stereotypical ‘mad scientist’ light switch, Stanley was now able to observe the diverse range of fantastical creatures kept in the room, both as taxidermy and live in captivity.

He spotted several scourges he remembered trying to ward off with Ford as a child, including jackalopes, fungal toads and a multitude of fairies, as well as creatures he’d done battle with during his times travelling. Fearsome beasts that lay slumbering in huge iron cages, glinting metal tags on their ears and ankles. 

Also beasts he’d never seen; aquatic monsters in large, murky tanks that occasionally slipped a tentacle or beady, dead eye into sight and animals constantly evading detection through rapid movement or unnerving stillness, but he could feel their presence. 

What had Ford gotten himself into?

The pair finally reached a, thankfully normal, cobbled kitchen. Stan made himself at home at the table and Ford made his way to the pantry to grab him some bread, wine, meat pie, and maybe some wheels of cheese if he was lucky. 

Stanford returned with arms laden with food and snorted as he saw Stan’s eyes widened like he was ten again. Watching as his stout, orcish brother’s face lit up like that at simple pleasures was one Ford’s favourite things about his brother, he’d missed it these last few years. So far their reunion had gone smoothly and even though the bad blood they shared was likely to bubble up later, it was nice to have a neutral meeting whilst it lasted.

He admired how age and experience became Stan, he’d certainly embraced his heritage and had his long brown hair tied into a ponytail, as well as septum ring. Stanford wasn’t surprised that he still found Stan’s small teeth poking out of his mouth in a perpetual under-bite oddly endearing. Though he looked like some kind of thief class, what with the light cloth shirt and breeches rather than the skimpy, bare-chest and leather look many orcs went for. Ford was never too much of a fan of the impractical, berserker choice of armour, but it was a shame he didn’t get a chance to see grown up Stanley in that kind of gear.

Where Stan was all bulk (and a bit of soft tummy) Ford was slight and elven. Though Filbrick was the epitome of orcish masculinity, Ma Pines was of elvish descent, which helped greatly with getting humans to fall for the psychic routine. Of course she had a degree of magical ability and prophetic properties, but its easier to sell simple lies than hard truths. Ford got the slimmer frame and magical prowess from his Ma, but kept the facial features shared by most of the Pines clan. 

He also inherited a translucent, ethereal glow about his skin, Stan observed. Not as green as Filbrick or Stan, but that slight hue made him seem nymph-like and elusive.

Unattainable. 

Both twins took a silence swig of wine. Lost in over-contemplation, they raise their eyes to meet and Stanford clears his throat. 

“What exactly are you doing here?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Reaching in his satchel, he pull out a scroll, handing it to Ford whilst explaining the nature of his visit, “I got hired by Emperor Cipher to bring you back to him.“ 

"Cipher?” 

“Yeah you know him?”

"Uh, yes, actually. And knowing that: I can’t come with you.“ 

Stan’s face dropped into stormy confusion at that, whilst Ford lowered eyes away from Stan’s gaze. 

"What? Why? Do you know how much gold that would’ve land me?!”

Ford let out a terse breath. “This is more important than money Stan, it’s bigger than just you." 

"Ford you don’t know what this would mean for me, I need this money!” He snorted derisively, “and if you’re going to fuck my plans over, can you please tell me what it is about this guy that is ‘ooh so important’.”

Slamming his fist on the table, Stanford shouted; “NO! You can’t know! Not you, not anyone! It’s too risky!" 

The two held a tense stare, dripping with aggression that stirred old feuds.

"Fine. Well if you ain’t ready to let me back in your life I’ll leave you alone, but I’m staying until you are." 

"Oh really?”

"Yeah, really.“ 

There was another stretch of prickling silence before Stan turned, picked up his worn pack and trudged through the archway of the kitchen, into the main hall. 

"I’ll be sleeping outside of you need me." 

He called as he left. Ford waited, heard the door slam and let out an exhausted rush of air. Even though he was emotionally drained from the fight, Stanford was secretly pleased his brother’s stubbornness had lead to him staying. 

God knows he’d needed someone to cling to for sanity, now he knew Cipher was after him.

Ford was just glad that someone turned out to be Stanley.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> angst
> 
> third chapter up soon

Stanford and Stanley kept out of each other's way for the days following the fight, emotional fallout barring them from talking, or making eye contact in most cases. 

Stanley really only came in for meals, grunting that eating outside was made hard by the thick layers of frost cumulating on his food.

Ford was left to his work, documenting and experimenting on the anomalies common in the land of Gravity Falls. Right now was that something was the shapeshifter he'd befriended a few years back.

Their relationship had began when it'd first been hatched, continuing until the shapeshifter had grown and demanded to return to its natural home in the caves below the mountain. He cares about them deeply, having been some semblance to family in a land far from home, but acknowledging the creature's agency was a turning point in his research.

Cipher had sent him to Gravity Falls to study it's natural irregularities, naming him it's Princess as the country was a Colony to the Cipheric Empire, and he'd wished to reward Stanford's endeavours to the understanding of the evolution and origin of monsters.

Yet encounters like the one with the shapeshifter had made him realise that his research methods could be exploitative. Raising the shifter had risen questions about the sapience of such beings and Ford was uncomfortable keeping them captive.

He was now determined to establish relations between the world of humanoids and the world of the unknown. As such, the shifter came in every few months for check-ups.

Sitting on the cool metal examination table, Shiftie was currently demonstrating different forms, Ford making observations Shiftie's physical state on a clipboard.

"Right then Shiftie, you seem to be doing ok. Have you been having any other trouble you want me to take a look at?"

"No Mama," the shifter purred "I've been fine. Though I noticed there's a traveler camping out in front of the keep. Are they causing you any trouble?"

"No, no, it's quite alright, he's actually... He's actually my brother."

Shiftie's pink eyes grew and shone with this revelation.

"You mean that's Uncle Stanley? Amazing! Can I meet him?"

Stanford grimaced, not wanting to disappoint his adopted child, but realistically the tense relationship between the twins would upset Shiftie.

"Uh, too be honest that's not a good idea, we're not exactly on the best of terms..."

"What? But you always spoke so highly of him, why is he upset with you? Or are you upset with him?"

"It's difficult to get into Shiftie, for multiple reasons. He'll be here for a while and I hope we can patch up our relationship."

"I hope so too Ma. Could I help at all?"

"No, no, I think it's best to just leave him, there's no sense rushing it."

"Really, because I would be happy to-"

"NO!" Shiftie flinched "things are more complicated than that. There's problems, old and new affecting it. I'm glad he's here but I don't see this getting better anytime soon."

"Oh... ok then," the shifter resigned "I guess I'll be on my way then. It was good to see you, Ma."

Ford was about to apologise for snapping, but they were out of the door before he had the chance. Sighing, he opened his journal and began to sketch one of his newest finds.

His heart wasn't really in it, but he needed the work done, and moping about his child and brother wasn't really going to help.

Still, Shiftie had raised the question of what to do about repairing the twins relationship. Of course it needed healing, but he was too scared to address the problem directly.

He thought back to the conflict between him and the shifter. After nearly two years of separation from Shiftie, most of which were spent at the bottom of a bottle, they'd had shown up in the snow, small and half-dead from a flesh eating bacteria on the verge of completely destroying them.

They'd wanted to see their adoptive parent before they passed, but Ford, wasn't content with letting them die. Shiftie was left with some withered limbs, but ultimately they pulled through.

From there, their bond deepened, and Ford was grateful for a second chance.

Outside of the fortress, sat Stanley, polishing his variety of weapons for what had to be the 100th time.

There wasn't much to do except sleep and organise this things, he was bored out of his mind.

He'd been doing a lot of sleeping actually, the days seemed longer here, and he was just getting tired so easily. Not to mention the bitter wind which had swept over the mountain.

His eyes were dry and his lips were chapped, but if Ford needed space he intended to give it to him.

Stanley willed the afternoon to pass quicker, just so he's have an excuse to go inside.

Goddamn it was cold.

Sniffing, Stan packed away the mace he was working on. He heaved the pack over his shoulder and started trudging towards his camp, with the intension of relighting the fire.

His chest creaked with every breath as he tried to convince himself it was just a little cold. 

Maybe... maybe he'd just rest a little while.

Curling in on himself and facing the glow of the fire, Stan began to drift off.


	3. Dr Unattainabelle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stanley is reckless and Shiftie is a sweety

There was a growing scuffling coming from outside the lab, a series of pained yet quiet protests, and the click-click of spidery legs approaching the door.

Just as Stanford turned around he saw Shiftie burst in, a large bundle of furs laden in his arms.

"Ford, Ford, help!" He croaked, "This thing's got me! You gotta-"

His voice broke of into a series of harsh coughs as Shiftie laid him down on the examination table.

"Oh hush now. Stop causing a fuss and I'll get Ma for you." They chastised, "Mama get over here!"

Ford dropped what he was doing and rushed over, peering into the mass of disgruntled orc blinking blearily up at him.

"What happened?"

"I found him outside in the snow. He's not in a good way."

Stanley's squinting, bemused eyes darted between the creature who'd carried him, kicking and cursing, to the lab, and his brother who seemed completely ok with said creature.

"So is it just gonna speak for me then? It woke me up, dragged me in here and you don't even question it?"

Grabbing his medical bag, Ford ignored his brother's protests and felt a hand on his forehead. The freezing tips of Stan's fingers tried to tear the hand away from his heated skin, but they were slapped away.

"You're burning up Stan, you could have hypothermia or just a little cold. Sit up for me Stan."

Stan mumbled grumpy, incoherent questions, but complied, lowering his sleeping furs and looking to his twin for further instruction.

Instead, Ford unlaced Stan's shirt and pulled it off over his head, watching his dazed expression with a calculated gaze. Then, feeling around in his bag, he pulled out a stethoscope and placed the cold metal to Stan's chest.

The cool six fingers along his ribcage made Stan's breath hitch.

"Stan, try and get your breathing steady, I need to see if there's any peculiar noises." Ford said in a firm, yet calming manner.

"O-ok."

The few seconds that stretched on between the two were held with an embarrassed air that had the tips of Stan's ears turning mauve whilst his twin moved the icy disc across his chest.

Then he drew up and took another look at the flushed complexion, before placing a hand on the side of his face and hooking some fingers under his jaw.

"Say 'aaah'"

"What?"

"Say aaah Stanley we don't have all day." Chastised the researcher.

Begrudgingly, Stan opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out as Ford checked the back of his throat.

He let go of Stanley's face and consulted a book to the right of the table.

Clearing his throat, Stan asked, "So what's the deal doc? Did your freaky mountain give me a magic virus? Demon sickness?" 

"No, no, you just have an infection. Probably bronchitis."

"Oh, oh ok."

"I'll just call Shiftie to get you up to the spare room."

"Shiftie?"

"Yeah, the- the monster you were talking about earlier, they're a friend of mine."

"Really?" Stanley looked around "Wait, where'd they go? They were right here... they brought me in..."

"They left us alone for me to give you a diagnosis. You were too disoriented to realise I guess."

The pair sat there in silence, Stan shirking the furs in an attempt to cool down, and Ford fiddling with medical gear. All that could be heard was the slap of melting snow against the window panes.

"...you should have told me you were sick sooner."

"Didn't want to bother you." Stan said dismissively.

Ford sighed, letting his hand itch tentatively on to his brother's leg.

"I don't want you straining yourself like this."

"Good to know."

Another pause as the two stared pointedly into thin air.

Stan seemed on the verge of breaking the stillness, but thought better of it and turned his head away absently.

"Well then, think I'd better go get them..."

"Yeah, ok."

Ford moved to open the door, unlocking it only to find Shiftie fall against the floor as the door was sharply tugged away.

They shuttled upright, giving their parent an embarrassed smile before Ford rolled his eyes at their eagerness that caused their eavesdropping.

"Get Uncle Stanley to bed, the thinner blankets are in the hallway cupboard, come back down when he falls asleep and I'll have some dinner on."

Without a word, Shiftie scooped Stan into their arms, bundled up with some of his furs and led him upstairs, through some winding corridors lined with abandoned piles of worn books, chasing down landings until the faded creme wallpaper melted into red. They reach the bedroom and Stan was placed on to a set of beautifully fresh sheets.

Shiftie brought the blankets and set them down in a heap next to Stan.

Stan muttered a few words of thanks before Shiftie headed for the door.

"Stanley?" Shiftie asked, throwing a glance behind them.

"Yeah?"

"You and your sibling. I- I hope you manage to sort your relationship out."

Stanley blinked at the unexpected comment.

"Uhh... thank you?" 

"Seeing you two talk was different than I've ever seen him before. And it's good, he seems... fuller."

They cast their eyes to the floor in contemplation, before returning to Stanley.

"He loves you very much," they asserted, "don't let that love go to waste. I want Ma happy and safe. You seem to be capable of making him happy and safe. Don't fuck it up."

Before Stan could even think to respond, the door was shut and he was alone with his thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to tumblr user jujuontherox for beta reading


End file.
